An Angry Woman
by Cats070911
Summary: Barbara is angry with Tommy. It was bad enough that he did not contact her while she is sick, but then he does the unforgivable. Can he convince her that her anger is love?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

* * *

"Where's the body?" she snapped into her phone. Detective Sergeant Havers hated being called out before dawn, and it was even worse now with the glacial cold snap that had seized Britain. It was only late October, and they should be drifting slowly into winter.

"There isn't one, Barbara. Just a puddle of blood and a knife with some flesh around the hilt," Stuart Lafferty said with a tad too much glee.

He had her attention. Barbara sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. "Drag marks?"

"None. No drip marks either."

"Have you rung the DI?" Barbara pulled back the curtain and wiped the condensation to create a peephole. Already a light dusting of white was forming on the trees. It was going to be frosty.

"He's on his way."

"Without me?" Barbara's first reaction was not anger but hurt. Had he got used to being without her so easily?

"He said he'd look first then call you. You have been off sick for two weeks with pneumonia. It's bloody freezing here."

"So why'd you ring me?"

"I knew you wouldn't want to miss out." He told her where the blood had been found and who was missing.

"This could be the case of the century!" She was already pulling off her pyjamas ready for a quick shower. "Will I get past security?"

"I'll make sure of it."

Her second call, almost an hour later, was from her boss. She was tempted to answer with 'decided to call me have you?' But there was no point in fighting if they had a case. She did not want him finding an excuse not to use her. "Morning, Sir."

"Ah, good morning Barbara. How are you?" Tommy Lynley sounded tired, but there was a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Not bad for half past four on a Monday morning."

"Yes, well there may have been a murder, Barbara. I know you don't start back officially for four hours, but I need you here. How quickly can you get to 10 Downing Street?"

"About...now."

Tommy turned around and frowned. His huge smile was probably inappropriate for the circumstances, but it clearly said that he had missed her. They both shoved their phones into their pockets and walked towards each other. For a moment, Barbara thought he was tempted to pick her up and spin her around. Instead, he stared at her as she stared at him. "I've missed you."

"You could have visited. I didn't have the plague."

"I... I didn't want to... disturb you."

"Hmph!" She pushed past him into the house then pulled a pair of rubber gloves from her bag. "How does someone kill and remove the PM's wife without anyone noticing?"

"It looks as though they by-passed the CCTV feeds. The cameras showed the room was empty. It was in the private rooms, so there are security guards on the doors leading to the suite and cameras in the major areas, but even the PM and his wife are entitled to some domestic privacy."

"Where the PM?"

"Returning from Scotland. He went yesterday morning."

"When was she last seen?"

"About nine o'clock last night. She had spoken to her security man before she retired."

"So no chance the PM did it then?"

Tommy glared at her. "No!"

"Don't sound so horrified. Just 'cause he's a Tory, it doesn't mean he's incapable of murder. You know very well the first suspects are always family."

"It has nothing to do with his politics. Stephen was devoted to Karen."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Friends of yours I take it."

"Acquaintances," he admitted reluctantly, "Stephen was a few years above me at Eton. I see him at functions occasionally."

"Jolly good."

"Barbara, please! A woman might have been murdered."

They examined the scene together, making notes of their observations and questions. Assistant Commissioner Hillier had arrived and was debating jurisdiction with an MI5 man who seemed even more bloated with self-importance than their boss. Eventually, Hillier reassured them that they would receive the full co-operation and assistance of the domestic security agency and if necessary, MI6.

When Hillier left the room, Barbara turned to her boss. "We might get to meet Bond, James Bond," she said imitating the latest Bond's voice with uncanny accuracy.

"Havers!"

"Sorry but it's going to be a long day. I need any snatches of humour I can get." He smiled sympathetically until she added, "and what beats a suave and sexy man with a licence to thrill?"

"Kill. Licence to kill."

"I'd prefer he thrilled me."

"Barbara!"

She smirked at him. "Sorry. It's been a long, boring couple of weeks at home... alone. Should we interview the staff?"

"You do it with Winston. I'll check the latest from Stuart then review the security tapes and liaise with the other agencies."

Barbara rolled her eyes, but not so he could see. "Don't forget if you see James..."

Tommy visibly bristled. "All their agents are probably short and balding," he muttered just loudly enough for her to hear before he left the room in search of Hillier.

* * *

Six hours laters they had completed all they could do on the site. The staff had been co-operative, but no one had seen anything that might help the investigation. All the security footage appeared normal and confirmed the interviews. Tommy sent the hard drives away for analysis, but they both doubted anyone had tampered with them. "We should go back and analyse everything," Tommy suggested.

"Right. I caught a cab. Can you give me a lift?"

"Of course," he replied as they walked to his car. "I've missed you, Barbara. I'm sorry I didn't call, but I thought... well, you know."

"No, I don't know. Did you think you'd catch it down the phone line?"

"No, I needed time to think. Something's been bothering me."

Barbara wondered briefly what had been on his mind, but she was still too angry with him to want to fall straight back into the role of his confidante. If he could not find five minutes in two weeks to check on her, then he could wait. They had to solve their case. "Me too."

"It has?" Tommy looked across and actually smiled. It was out of context and vaguely creepy. Barbara turned away and looked out the passenger window.

"The pool of blood isn't right," she said sharply, hoping to refocus him.

Tommy frowned at her and looked disappointed. "Why?"

"The shape was too perfect. Blood doesn't usually pool on the carpet so neatly."

"Hmm, I thought that too."

"And there's no spray, no splatter, no odd drops indicating where the body might have been moved."

"So, you're thinking?"

"There isn't a body, but someone wants us to think there is."

"Staged? By Karen? By kidnappers?"

"I had pneumonia, not a sudden attack of clairvoyance!"

Tommy grinned at her. "I really did miss you."

"I could tell by all your phone calls and flowers."

"I'll make it up to you, once this is all over. I promise."

"It was just that before I got sick, we seemed to be spending all our time together, then nothing. I was bored."

"I didn't mean it to be like that. We need to talk about this more, but not with this case. Afterwards."

Barbara grunted. He would forget, and she would forgive him. It was their pattern.

* * *

Mid-afternoon, Stuart rang to confirm the blood was human and the same blood type as the Prime Minister's wife. "They are rushing a DNA test through to see if it is her blood," he told Barbara, "but I'd be surprised if it weren't."

"Was the blood loss enough to kill her?"

"Hard to say. It depends on where the wound was. So, possibly but not necessarily."

"That narrows it down."

"I'll call you back once we have the DNA results. Lynley was happy to have you back."

"Yeah, well he could have visited or called."

"Don't be like that, Barbara."

"Like what? You rang, Winston came over. His Lordship couldn't even spare me five minutes."

"Ah well, the course of true love as they say."

Before Barbara could reply, Stuart was gone, and she was listening to the vacant beeps of a dead line. "Men!"

"In general, or any in particular?"

"Hi, Winston. That was Stuart."

"That's one man. Who else makes it men?"

"You, if you're not careful. What do you want anyway?"

Winston had a smug smirk on his face. Barbara knew he was enjoying teasing her. "The one who puts the e in men wants you in his office."

"Why does everyone assume everything is about Lynley?"

Winston's face became serious. "Because for you, it always is."

Feeling far too much colour creeping into her face, she stomped through the squad room to Lynley's office. She slammed the door closed and marched up to his desk. "You want me?"

Tommy gave her the strangest look. "Yes, I do."

"Stuart confirmed the blood is human and matches the reference blood type. They're checking DNA now."

"Good."

"Maybe not for the victim."

Tommy glared at her. She knew when to back off. She waited for him to speak. "The PM is back. We should go over and interview him."

"How hard do we push?"

"We assume nothing. We know he physically could not have been involved, but the possibility that he organised it cannot be ruled out."

"Even if he did go to Eton."

"Barbara! Enough. If all you can contribute is a smart mouth, then maybe you need more time off."

"If you don't want me around anymore, just say so."

Tommy stood and walked around the desk and stood directly in front of her. "Don't please, Barbara."

She refused to be intimidated and looked him straight in the eye. "I can't help it. I was hurt when you didn't try to contact me."

"Do you want to know why I couldn't come over?" he asked angrily, "because I would have done this." Tommy grabbed her arms then bent down and kissed her. At first, his lips were hard and forceful; then they softened as they gently caressed hers. Briefly, she kissed him back until she remembered her place and pulled away.

Barbara stood stunned. Her mind ricocheted in a thousand directions. Tommy had just bulldozed through a barrier that she had fought hard to maintain. Now she had nowhere to run. She had returned his kiss. He knew how she felt. Colour flushed her cheeks. "How could you do that?" she asked angrily before storming from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

The waste paper bin scudded across the floor and banged into the wall. Tommy growled as he shook the pain from his foot. Kissing her in anger had been foolish. But it had also been wonderful. For those precious few seconds that she had tugged eagerly on his bottom lip, he had felt her heart reaching out to him. He smiled despite the mess he was now in. If she loved him, there was still hope. At least he needed to believe there was hope.

He collected his jacket and strode purposefully through the office. Barbara was sitting glowering at her PC screen. Behind the savage look her bearing told him she was close to an outburst that they would both regret. "Come on Havers. We can't keep the PM waiting."

To his relief, she picked up her jacket and followed him to his car. She did not look once at him as they settled in and he pulled out into the traffic. Now they were alone, he could apologise. "Barbara, I'm sorry. That was unprofessional."

She turned and stared at him then snorted. "Unprofessional? More like sexual harassment, or better still sexual assault. Who do you think you are? Oh, yes, I forgot. You're the lord. We are all supposed to bow and scrape and kiss you when you feel the need. Well, I'm not doing it! I wouldn't be caught dead kissing you."

"You did kiss me. Not for long, but you definitely kissed me." There was something in her tone that convinced him she had forgiven him.

"I was trying to keep your insatiable mouth from smothering me. Don't mistake defensive moves for the return of pleasure."

"The return of pleasure?" he said provocatively. "So, you admit then that you received pleasure from the kiss."

Barbara gave him a withering stare. "I admit no such thing. Typical of a man to think the woman enjoys him assaulting her. You're nothing but a... Why am I even justifying this? To you, especially!"

"When I said that I stayed away because I would have kissed you; that wasn't entirely true. I stayed away because I was scared of what wanting to kiss you so badly would mean for our friendship. I needed time away from you to think. But I missed you so much I could hardly bear it."

"That's self-defeating. And friends don't kiss each other unannounced."

"So if I had announced it first?"

"You are the most pedantic, arrogant, sh... grrrr! Anyway, after this case is over, I'm filing for a transfer. I'm still thinking about reporting you."

"I'm sorry I kissed you like that."

"You have to do a lot better than that Lord Asherton."

"I will."

Barbara frowned at his deliberate ambiguity. "You think this is funny?"

"No, I've been a fool," Tommy said as he parked near the cordoned off police barrier at the end of Downing Street.

"That's the first honest thing you've said all day." Barbara quickly hopped out of the car and slammed the door. Tommy winced.

* * *

The Prime Minister was a slight man who walked stiffly due to his well-documented entanglement with a polo pony a few years ago when he was Leader of the Opposition. Tommy shook his hand, "Prime Minister, this is Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers."

Barbara seemed surprised when Stephen Watermain extended his hand. She shook it briefly then pulled out her notebook and pen. "Is there somewhere more private we can talk, Prime Minister?"

The interview covered many of the basic facts regarding his whereabout and knowledge of his wife's movements before it moved to more personal matters. "I'm sorry to have to ask, Stephen, but how was your relationship with Karen?"

"Fine. Like most couples I suppose, it had its ups and downs."

Barbara narrowed her eyes. "Before you left for Scotland was it up, or down?"

The Prime Minister shifted his weight to the front of his chair. "I may as well tell you now as you'll probably find out anyway. I thought Karen was having an affair. We argued about it."

"Was she? Or was it male pride and petty jealousy?" Tommy felt her eyes boring into him rather than the PM. "Or insecurity?"

The PM glared at Barbara's impertinence. "She admitted it. With the chauffeur of all people."

"How terrible for you. The chauffeur."

Tommy glared at Barbara. "Yes, it must have been distressing to find out," he added, trying to make her rudeness less apparent.

"In a way. It was certainly not her first indiscretion. Karen had needs Tommy. Needs that I couldn't satisfy."

"Are you saying you're impotent, Prime Minister?" Barbara asked.

"Sergeant!"

Watermain put up his hand. "It's fine, Tommy. She has to ask. No, I'm not impotent, Sergeant, but my wife enjoys... er, how do I put this? Rough sex."

Barbara did not look up from her notebook. "How rough?"

"She likes men to hurt her. I can't do that. I've trained myself to be able to slap her bottom with a little cane occasionally. But... I can't hit her, or choke her, so she finds men who can."

Tommy blanched. He had always thought Stephen and Karen were very loving. "I see."

"Yes, I can see you disapprove, Tommy. Karen and I love each other very much, but when you can't satisfy the needs of the other, you have to find ways for them to be happy. Karen was very good like that. She never allowed them to beat her face or anywhere where bruising would show. She didn't want anyone to suspect she was the victim of domestic violence."

"She was," Barbara said, "you keep referring to your wife in the past tense, Prime Minister. We have no proof she has come to serious harm, let alone that she is deceased."

"I saw the blood pool. I didn't become PM by being a fool."

Tommy heard Barbara mutter something under her breath. "Where is this chauffeur now?"

"I don't know."

"Havers, why don't you go and make enquiries?"

Barbara glanced at him then read his intentions. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

After she was through the door and out of earshot, Stephen turned to Tommy. "She's an angry woman! She'd be the one with the whip in her relationships."

"Sergeant Havers is a very capable police officer."

"Ah, I see. Does the feisty sergeant know you're in love with her? She doesn't seem your type, Tommy. Maybe that's why she's so angry? Because she doesn't believe you or maybe she doesn't feel the same way? Is that why she might report you for kissing her?"

"My relationship with my colleague has nothing to do with finding you wife. Now tell me about Karen's affairs."

* * *

Tommy ushered Barbara to the car with a brusque, "we'll talk at the station."

She sat silently beside him as he drove until he passed Scotland Yard and kept driving. "Where are we going?" she demanded.

"Not now." Tommy frowned at her, trying to get her to keep quiet.

He continued, making twists and turns until he was sure he was not being followed. Once he was certain, he turned and drove over Battersea Bridge and into the park. With his finger over his lips, he gestured for her to alight. Barbara frowned but obeyed. Once they were almost a hundred yards from the car, she turned on him. "Want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"My car is bugged and I suspect we might be being tailed, or tracked in some way. Probably MI5 or MI6."

"That makes no sense, Sir. Why? And how do you know?"

"Stephen made it clear that he knew I had kissed you and that you had threatened to report me. To know that he must have the car bugged."

"The lousy bloody..."

"Now is not the time to be angry, Barbara. We have to think about this. Is Hillier aware? Is he involved?"

"He'd stoop fairly low to increase his access to power, but even for him..."

"I agree. Barbara, you're the only person I know I can trust."

"You have a funny way of showing loyalty at times."

"I know. Can we call a truce and work together? I really am very sorry about not calling around. And I'm sorry I lost my temper and kissed you like that. I should have been brave enough to tell you that somewhere along the line, I've fallen in love with you and quite frankly, I don't know what to do about it. There are so many implications and complications that we need to talk through, but with this case now..."

"You've what?"

"Fallen in love with you. You being angry was the one reaction I feared most. I had hoped to find the right time and then you'd fall into my arms. I really am a fool, aren't I?"

"I'm not angry."

"You're not?"

"No."

"Barbara, I want to kiss you properly. Not here, but somewhere romantic where I can then make love to you very slowly."

"You have to kiss me here."

Tommy grinned at her. "So, you do feel the same way?"

"I didn't say that. If they're watching, we need a reason to be out of the car and talking. Fixing our lover's tiff is a plausible excuse, even if they tell Hillier."

"Good thinking, but can I at least have a clue how you feel about what I said?"

Barbara raised her eyebrows. "Confused mostly. This is becoming a very surreal day."

Tommy stepped forward and tentatively took her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her hard and passionately. Instead he gently brushed her lips against hers and held them in place waiting for her to react. Instead of pulling away, she pressed harder against his mouth. Tommy broke the kiss to mumble, "I love you, Barbara."

"I love you too, Tommy." This time their lips crashed together. As he pulled her tighter against his body, her hands gripped his waist painfully. When he groaned, Barbara tugged at his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and let her invade. The wobbling world he had been standing on settled into it's usual trajectory.

When they paused for air, he lamented, "if we didn't have this case and weren't in a public park..."

"I'm still angry and hurt that you didn't come to visit."

"I will make it up to you, I promise."

"Then we had better get back to the station and start working out what has happened to Karen Watermain."

Tommy bent down to kiss her again. "That can wait a few minutes."


	3. Chapter 3

As they walked back to the car hand in hand, Barbara could not stop smiling. The man she loved for so long had just declared his love for her. It may not have been by a moonlit river with violins playing, but she knew he meant it. She could see he was as confused and frightened by it as she had initially been. They would have many things to talk through after the case, some of which she dreaded. Until then she intended just to accept what came.

By the car, Tommy stopped and gave her another loving kiss. "Just play along," he whispered in her ear. "We need to ditch this car."

They drove back towards New Scotland Yard. Half way there, Tommy started to tut. "Do you hear that?"

Barbara heard nothing. "Yeah, what is it? The engine?"

Tommy grinned at her. "I think the old girl has split her radiator hose again."

"Not again!" Barbara said with mock horror.

"She gets temperamental when she overheats."

Barbara gave him her best 'don't mess with me' look'. "We women can be like that."

"I hope it doesn't take Jack three weeks to source another one this time. Do you want me to drop you at the Yard first?"

"No, my love, I'll come with you."

"Mmm." Tommy looked over and gave her a deliciously naughty grin. Barbara blushed, unsure if he was reacting to her term of endearment or her accidental innuendo. The prospect did have promise, though. She had often fantasised about him as her lover. She crossed her legs and let out a long sigh.

Tommy drove to his mechanic in a back street near the Westminster Cathedral. "You may as well stay in the car until I've spoken to Jack. It'll give you a few minutes to practice your song for the concert."

Barbara was not performing in a concert, but she understood his cue. She tried to think of something appropriate to annoy the person listening in on headphones. She smiled as she began to sing some of the discordant melodies from Three Penny Opera.

A few minutes later, Tommy returned. "All sorted," he said as he took his coat from the back seat and searched it thoroughly feeling for a bug. Barbara did the same with her jacket and her and her handbag, paying particular attention to the hems and around the zippers. They needed to be sure that someone in their office had not planted the bug. There was no sign of any listening devices.

"It's probably quicker to walk than catch a cab," Barbara suggested, partly because she was enjoying spending time with Tommy without having to think about blood pools and missing wives. Before they went onto the street, Tommy stopped her and kissed her again. She could grow used to the way his tongue tickled the inside of her bottom lip. A little purr of contentment that escaped her throat. "Mmmm. What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason? I'm not sure when we'll have the chance again. I should have told you weeks ago how I felt. I should have..."

She put her finger to his lips to silence him. "You said you'll make it up to me in the future. I intend to make sure you keep your promise."

Holding hands, they ambled back to the Yard, reluctantly decoupling only a block away. Inside, they went straight to Hillier's office.

"Sir, can we have a word?" Tommy asked.

"Come in. Messy, messy business. We have to tread carefully on this one Lynley. What have you uncovered so far?" the Assistant Commissioner asked.

"Three things. Firstly, Karen Watermain had a chequered sexual history including masochism and was involved in a sexual liaison with her chauffeur. Secondly, the PM knows a lot more than he is saying and has been spying on us. And thirdly, it is likely that the scene was staged to look like a murder."

Hillier sat back in his chair. "How do you know about his wife's sexual er... inclinations?"

"Stephen openly told us." Tommy turned to Barbara. "Did you learn anything more from your interview?"

Barbara retrieved her notebook. "Yes, the driver, a Bill Stoinis, did not want to admit it at first, but when I pressed him, he confessed to having sex with her on several occasions in the last two months. He claims he only did it for the money. It seems the PM's wife paid handsomely to pursue her specific needs. Five hundred pounds per session, twice a week. The chauffeur claimed most of it was hush money."

"Did he outline their activities?" Tommy asked.

"Mainly using canes, ropes and sexual aids. Mrs Watermain was apparently quite faithful to the PM in that it appears there was limited penetrative sex other than with vibrators and other objects. Stoinis what quite clear that he had never had direct intercourse with her."

"Sergeant!" Hillier exclaimed.

"Sorry, Sir. Just stating the facts." She noticed the amusement in Tommy's eyes and gave him a sly smile.

Hillier recovered his demeanour. "And why was the scene staged?"

"The blood looks like it was from Karen," Tommy said, "but we are still waiting for DNA confirmation. There was no splatter, drops or spread of blood and it was a neat circle of blood. Around a body you expect the pool to be more uneven as body part divert the flow. This was too even."

Hillier drummed the ends of his fingers together. "Hmmm. Yes, it does sound suspicious. And why on Earth do you think you're being spied on? And by whom?"

"MI5 or MI6 we suspect. The PM tried to use a private conversation between Barbara and me to warn me to keep my place."

"A conversation you at at Number 10?"

"No Sir, that's why we know we were bugged. It was a discussion we had in the car travelling to Downing Street."

"What sort of conversation? Speculation about the case?"

"No, Sir. It was a personal conversation." Tommy looked across at Barbara. She nodded. "Sergeant Havers and I are in a relationship."

Hillier went white and sank back against the green leather of his chair. Colour then flooded his face. "That's preposterous! How could you... and... No!"

It was clear that Hillier had known nothing about it. He had not sanctioned the bugging or been aware of any of the overheard conversation. Barbara and Tommy exchanged a few thoughts in their unique style.

"Ah, see Sir, we can't fool you, but we did convince Watermain," Tommy said. "Now we can use that to our advantage."

"You told him that you and... Havers were...? Ugh!"

"No, Sir. I did not volunteer any information at all. We were suspicious about the circumstances of the case. Something didn't feel right, so we decided to test that out."

"By feigning a relationship with your sergeant? No offence Havers, but for Lynley and you to be... It's implausible."

"Barbara is an attractive woman, why would it be implausible? Anyway, with Watermain, I acted affronted, which should be expected. After we left, we drove to Battersea Park to see if we were being followed. Just in case anyone had eyes on us we kissed."

"How?"

Tommy grinned at Barbara then took her in his arms and gave her a lengthy, but chaste, kiss.

"No! Sweet mother of the saints! I didn't need a demonstration."

Tommy, who still had Barbara in his arms, shrugged. "Sorry, Sir but you asked how."

Hillier's red face had taken on a purplish hue around the edges. "I meant how were you bugged, not how did you kiss. Let your Sergeant go for pity's sake!"

"I'm not sure, Sir. I summise that my car was bugged this morning at the crime scene. There were plenty of spooks in and out. It would have been relatively easy to pretend to look at a classic car and slip something inside."

"This is London. We are not in the middle of a James Bond movie!"

Barbara clamped her lips together to stifle a laugh. "No, Sir."

"Nonetheless," Tommy continued, "I faked a radiator hose leak and took my car to my mechanic. I asked him to find the device but leave it alone. They can listen to workshop noises for a while or try something else. In the meantime, Barbara and I need to keep up our ruse. They might have my house bugged too, but it would look suspicious if we didn't stay there. So, if Sergeant Havers will agree, I think she should move in with me until the case is over."

"Might be best," Hillier agreed, "but do tell me you plan to give her a room on her own."

"All my guest rooms are available, Sir."

"Well, if the spooks are involved, something is afoot. It might help flush it out. What are your thoughts, Sergeant?"

"Sacrifices sometimes need to be made, Sir."

Tommy smiled. "For Queen and country, eh what?"

Hillier glared at both of them through narrowed eyes. "Just find out the truth so that we can get back to normal. I don't know how you think people will believe you, but you do have a history of bedding anything that moves, so I suppose people will just assume it is a fling. I doubt anyone here is watching you, so there is no need for a big show. Besides people will think that if I found out, I would separate you. So, be discreet around your colleagues."

"Yes, Sir," they replied in unison.

"Off you go. Solve the case so we can end this ridiculous nonsense."

* * *

Tommy closed and locked his office door and took her in his arms. "It's not a ruse, Barbara. I had to test him out."

"I know. The look on his face was priceless."

"Did you see how he turned purple? I thought we might need to call the paramedics."

Barbara laughed. "But what happens after the case?"

"We tell him that after being thrust together, we fell in love and that now we are in a genuine relationship."

"And then he will separate us."

"One bridge at a time." Tommy kissed her lovingly. "We'll manage."

"You're the one that for the past two weeks was too scared to come near me because of the 'complications and implications'!"

Tommy cuddled her close. "I was wrong. So very, very wrong. One kiss cured me. Now, kiss me again because then we have a case to solve."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Yes, I know that it would be highly unlikely that they would ever kiss in front of Hillier, but hey, we like to have a little fun with the characters every now and again...

* * *

"That was Stuart," Barbara said after hanging up the phone. "It was Karen's blood."

Tommy ran his hand slowly through his hair. "Hmm, so where does that leave us?"

"Well, that's the interesting bit. It had been heat treated."

"Heat treated?"

"Yes, Stuart said they do that if it is being stored. So, it is probably from the emergency supplies that they take. Did you know they keep about three pints of the blood of important people in storage for emergencies?"

"I suspected they might. Does he know where it was kept?"

"No. He said it could have been a major hospital, or even at MI5."

Tommy walked across to their board and pinned a picture of Karen in the centre. "So we have a missing woman and scene staged to make us think she was killed or seriously injured. Was she? Or did she fake the whole thing and disappear?"

"They have no children so that is one complication that stops a lot of unhappy women running away. And if her husband could not satisfy her needs maybe she found someone who could."

"Hmm, it's a definite possibility, but why not just leave?" Tommy did not think it was that simple.

"Because she's the PM's wife. It would ruin him politically."

"Surely that's what a vengeful woman would want?"

"Maybe she was't vengeful, just unsatisfied."

"If so, she must have had help. She needed access to that blood for a start. We need to find out about her doctor and how that blood is stored. Also get Winston to do a full background report on her."

"He's doing that now."

"Good. Who else do we have?"

Barbara handed him Stephen's picture which he pinned next to Karen's. "Husband who talked about her in the past tense and did not seem overly upset by the thought of her being murdered."

Tommy nodded. "Yes, there was something very odd about his behaviour. He physically could not have done it, but he has power and connections to make it happen. He even provided us with a motive regarding her liaisons."

"Only to cast suspicion on others." Barbara handed him a photo of the chauffeur. "William Stoinis, known as Bill. He's been Karen's driver for two years and admits to being paid to have rough sex with her for the last two months. In theory, he was better off with her around, so I'm not sure of his motive."

Tommy looked thoughtful. "Unless she wanted to end it. Also, who did she have before that? And what happened to him? Does he have a reason to hurt her or take her? Do you have anyone looking at other possible partners?"

"Yes, Sir, but it's a difficult one because of the number of people she came into contact with. We are looking for anyone with a history of violence first."

"Barbara, I think we might have moved past calling me Sir."

"Not at work. It's a habit, and besides people might notice. You heard what Hillier said, keep it low key."

"You always have an answer, don't you?"

"Yep," she said giving him a cheeky grin before returning to her professional demeanour. "I think it'll be someone who worked for her. Someone she had power over, except when they were hitting her."

"Part of her fetish?"

"I think so, but I might be wrong."

"I trust your hunches. Run with that first but until we have any other suspects, let's focus on those we do know about. The PM."

"He has a rock solid alibi, but he had motive and could easily have had the means. The spooks were there almost too quickly. MI5 I can understand, it's potentially an issue of domestic security, by why were MI6 there?"

"I don't know. I wondered the same thing."

"Do you have connections?"

"To MI6?" Tommy flicked his hair off his face. "Yes, I do actually. Let me make a call."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Tommy gestured hurriedly to Barbara across the squad room. "We're meeting someone down in St James's Park in twenty minutes. Don't be surprised if he frisks you."

"A real life spy?"

"No, a bureaucrat, but they are all suspicious people. Come on."

Once they were out of sight of the Yard, Tommy draped his arm over her shoulder. "When this is over, I want to take you away somewhere special."

"You don't need to do that."

"I want to do that. Besides, we need to discuss our future away from the pressures of our normal lives."

"Don't sound so melodramatic, Tommy. We have to make our future part of our normal lives."

"True. I still want to take you away. We could make love under the stars on a beach somewhere."

"I take it back. You're not being melodramatic, you're being soap-operish."

"Is that a word?"

"It is now."

"I love you."

She smiled up at him. "Me too. Although I still don't believe what has happened today."

Tommy kissed the top of her head. "You will, later."

* * *

Tommy's contact was his old house captain from Eton. He was only a few years older than Tommy but had not aged well. His round glasses accentuated his weight and his moonlike face. His blimpish appearance was made worse by his complete lack of hair.

"He's wearing a trench coat," Barbara whispered.

Tommy ignored her. "Geoffrey, my old man, good to see you again. This is my partner, Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers. Barbara this is Geoffrey Plumridge."

"Pleased to meet you," she said politely.

"You trust her?" Plumridge asked.

"With my life. Barbara is also my... future wife." Barbara looked nearly as shocked as Plumridge.

The MI5 man looked her up and down. "Really! Well I never."

Tommy frowned at Barbara, warning her not to bite. She glared back but smiled saccharinely at Plumridge.

"So, what did you want to tell me that had to be in an open park."

"Watermain had come to believe his wife was a French spy."

Lynley scowled in disbelief. "A what? He does realise we are allies now? All part of the EU. We haven't been adversaries since 1815 for heavens sake."

"A spy for the far right elements there rather than the government. If it's true it could seriously undermine our relations with France."

"When did he become suspicious?"

"Last year. After Mrs Watermain stayed with her best friend in Normandy, she started sprouting some very radical far right views."

"Further right than Watermain? He is known as a very conservative Conservative," Barbara pressed.

Plumridge gave her an ill-disguised contemptuous look then frowned at Tommy. "The National Front is growing in momentum every year, but this group makes them look like radical liberals."

"So Watermain called in MI6?"

"Yes. To follow her and uncover the truth. We had an operative with special skills get close to her."

"I take it the special skills related to her sexual preferences?" Barbara asked.

"Yes."

"The chauffeur?"

"No, her previous paramour, Watermain's former private secretary, Jon Pullman."

"Where is he now?" Tommy asked.

"We pulled him out. We felt he was getting too close. He's in New Zealand counting sheep."

"He's where?" Barbara asked.

"It means they've buried his somewhere well out of harm's way," Tommy told her.

"That's all I know, Lordy."

"Thanks for telling me, Plummy. One more thing. Do MI6 suspect her French connections squirreled her away?"

"That or that Watermain had her silenced. Of course if he did, he could never be brought to justice for it. It would undermine our democracy."

Barbara's face went red. "I think it would be undermined by not pursuing justice. Why were we brought in?"

"Appearances. You may uncover the truth, but where will it take you? Be careful, you don't want to take on the agency and the government. If it was Watermain, he will have an accident within a few months of leaving office. Justice will be served, just not as you might expect. Now, I must go. If you mention me, I will deny telling you anything and bring accusations against you that will rain fire and destroy your careers and future."

Tommy nodded. "I understand."

Plumridge turned up the collar of his coat, thrust his hands deep into his pockets and walked away. Barbara stared at Tommy. "Well, Lordy, what a thoroughly unpleasant man."

He smiled. "I know, Barbara, but he has a point. Both agencies can destroy us."

"If they only wanted people for appearances, they wouldn't have assigned us."

"Hillier assigned us. Probably because he thought I walk in similar circles and would know how to behave."

"But he knows I don't and that you'll follow me if justice is in question."

"We weren't successful with Simon Featherstonehaugh," Tommy reminded her.

"I know, but we tried." Barbara put her hand on his sleeve.

Tommy looked into her eyes. They had shared so much over the years. It had always been comforting to have someone who understood, but now that they had admitted their love, he was free to express all his fears. "Barbara, regardless of whatever happens, I..."

The insistent buzz of her mobile broke the spell. "Havers." She listened and nodded. "Thanks Stuart." Barbara rang off and turned to Tommy. "Stuart found the blood storage for Karen. Guess what?"

"All three pints are intact and sitting happily on some shelf where they have been for months."

"How did you know that?"

"I can read your eyes."

"And what are they saying now?"

"That I should shut up, or risk a tongue lashing. Actually, I rather like the sound off that. I can imagine your tongue running up my... oww!" He rubbed his arm.

"Don't start talking like that!"

Barbara had gone beetroot red. He took her in his arms. "I'm sorry. That was crass, but I love you thoroughly and I can't pretend that I'm not looking forward to the physical side of that too."

"Why? Because it's been a while?"

Tommy pulled her into an embrace. "No, because I want us to be one mind, one spirit, one body. It's not about sex, Barbara, it's so much more. You'll understand, I promise." He bent down and started to gently kiss her.

Barbara's stomach growled loudly. "Excuse me."

They both laughed at the timing. Tommy looked at his watch. "It's nearly seven o'clock. Maybe we should have some dinner and then go home. We can continue to toss ideas around there."

"If I'm moving in, I'll need some clothes."

He hugged her tightly. "Don't bother packing pyjamas."


	5. Chapter 5

After calling by her flat to collect some clothes they ate leisurely at her local pub. Tommy had organised for his security firm to sweep his house for any hidden cameras or listening devices. He asked them to locate them but not disturb them. He simply wanted to know whether they were being spied on, particularly in his bedroom. Barbara had been aghast at his suggestion that tapes of them having sex might be used against them. "Even Hillier would find it hard to believe that we were doing it for show. Duty only goes so far," he had warned.

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time the firm rang Tommy. No devices had been found and they had installed an anti-bugging loop which would interfere with any attempts for spies to sit outside and use directional listening devices.

"All clear. We can go home. It's been a tiring and stressful day, and you've been ill, so I will understand if you'd prefer to stay in my spare room."

"Thanks, but I'd rather stay with you. Otherwise I might wake up and find this was just a confusing, wonderful dream."

He took her hand as they waited on the footpath for a cab. "A wonderful dream come true, but it is real. Very real."

"I'm nervous," she confessed. She was actually terrified, but also excited. Nervous was probably the right word on balance.

He put his arm around her and held her close. "So am I."

"Really?"

"Yes. I don't have a great history with love. I want this to be everything we both want and need."

"Me either, but our past doesn't have to define our future, Tommy. We can make this work. It might never be conventional, but it'll be ours."

Tommy stroked her cheek. "I've loved you for so long. Why didn't I act sooner?" He kissed her in a new and different way. Physically it was probably the same but Barbara felt as if the final barriers and doubts were tumbling away from both of them.

"Because you were a fool," she replied with only a slight smile.

* * *

"Welcome," he said as he opened his front door.

"Thanks."

He took her hand. Her grip tightened as they neared the stairs. As they ascended, Tommy looked across and smiled. "I know I was brash earlier when I said don't bring pyjamas. We can just sleep together tonight. I don't want you to feel pressured."

Her grip relaxed and she looked lovingly at him. "Now, you tell me. I didn't pack any."

He stopped halfway up the stairs and kissed her. "We can share a pair of mine."

As she stood in the bathroom in nothing but his pyjama coat, Barbara wished they were past the first awkward stages of being lovers. At the same time, she wanted the anticipation to continue. "It'll be fine," she told the mirror. "You love him. If he loves you, then this will work." Her reflection did not look as confident.

Tommy was already in bed when she emerged. She smiled when she saw his naked chest. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, it looked slightly shiny. She smiled at memories of his wet chest in showers and caravans. This time she would be able to touch it. Kiss it. She dragged her eyes up to his face. Doey brown eyes were looking back at her. Soft lips curled into a smile.

"Come here," he ordered gently.

Barbara walked over and climbed into bed and straight into his arms. She nestled her face in the downy hair of his chest, and kissed it. Tommy moaned. When she looked up, he was smiling. Slowly, with eyes locked, their faces drifted together. Their kiss started demurely but when Tommy's hand explored under the hem of the pyjama top and found the bare cheek of her rump, he groaned heavily and kissed her hard. Barbara rolled half onto her back, pulling him with her. It was clear that he wanted her as much as she needed him. His hands began to undo the buttons of her pyjama top. Her hand tugged at the drawstring of his pants. "These are getting in our way, Tommy."

* * *

They slept in and were later to work than they had planned. Making love was much more tiring than she had anticipated, and far more fun. She had fantasised for years about what it would be like to have Tommy as a lover. Reality had been far different. Her limited experience had led her to think it would be quick and relatively pleasant. Tommy had not rushed. He had patiently mapped her reactions to his hands and mouth and encouraged her to explore him. Even without touching any of their most sensitive areas, Barbara had felt a tight, knotting pleasure that far exceeded anything from her past. Deepest pleasure and an exquisite need bordering on pain had increased with each kiss, each caress, each needy moan. Finally his gentle lovemaking sated them both, but respite had been brief as they made love until dawn.

"Penny for them."

She looked up. "Hmm, no. If I told you, we might get ourselves into mischief."

"I could lock the door."

"No! We have a missing woman to locate."

He looked across with soft, loving eyes. "Your face is beautiful when..."

"Tommy! No! Not here. Missing. Woman."

"You're a tyrant."

"And you're being very Labradorean."

He laughed. "You know a lot of people from Canada do you?"

"I meant the dog! Look at you, sitting innocently with big sad eyes, waiting to be patted."

"I like Labradors," he replied.

"Hmph. So do I. Now, what do we know about this Pullman character?"

"Not much. I had Winston check the police database but there's no entries for him."

"Do you think it's his real name?"

Tommy shrugged. "It's the only name we have. Unless you can think of something else."

"James Bond was in the Royal Navy."

"And Bugs Bunny was from Brooklyn. I don't see your point."

Barbara rolled her eyes but gave him a cheeky grin. "Getting slow in your old age are we? Do MI6 recruit people from the services? Maybe he has a military record?"

"Beauty and brains! I'll have it checked. Meanwhile try the boring things like the WhitePages."

Tommy wandered back into his office ten minutes later. Barbara was still searching the computer. "Winston found a Jonathan Pullman who served with the Horseguards. Aged 45. Discharged four years ago. His mother was next of kin and lived in Cobham when he was discharged."

Barbara pursed her lips together in thought. "Sounds promising. Should we visit his mother?"

"Let's do some more digging first. Did you find anything?"

"No."

"Let's think what we know. Karen is missing. Someone with access to blood storage facilities set the scene to look like she had been harmed, possibly murdered. It sounds professional, except that it was not realistic to a trained eye. Karen had connections to a dubious French political movement and at least two lovers capable of violence. Her husband did not seem overly upset, was keen for us to think she was dead, and is in league with MI6. So, who wants us to believe what?"

"They bugged us so they want to know what we know."

"You're right. They want to be one step ahead. So, what if Stephen and MI6 don't know where she is? What if we have been brought in because we might find her? If they were bugging the car then they would be alert to where she was and possibly get there first."

"What about MI5, Sir?"

"They are following all the correct protocols. I think they are just fulfilling their role of domestic security. MI6 are they key."

"What do they want and why?"

"That's the key, Barbara. That's the key."

"Okay, what if Karen is a danger in some way. Maybe she was going to go public? Or divorce the PM, or maybe she has information that will help the far right or embarrass him on the world stage?"

"What if she stole information detrimental to national security?"

Barbara chewed on her bottom lip. "They'd be looking for her. They'd kill her and then let us find her and everyone would think she had been murdered yesterday. No one would know of their involvement."

"Except us. And that's where I think they believe Lord Asherton will come to the party and behave. In fact, they probably know we'd have the blood DNA matched but maybe not that Stuart would be so thorough and discover it was stored blood. They think we are just Mr and Mrs Plod. And Stephen took delight in threatening me about our relationship. We are being set up to do their leg work and be too stupid to see through the game. Or if we do, we won't want our careers ruined, so will keep quiet."

"What if Hillier tells them he knows about our relationship? They lose leverage, and it puts us in danger."

"Yes, it does, Barbara."

"I don't think he will. You saw his face. He was shocked, so he was not approached by them first. Or if he was it was only to persuade him to use you. MI6 aren't working with him."

"I agree. If anyone sought us, it was probably Watermain as their mouthpiece. We need to find out what Karen knows that endangers not only his career but also national security."

"And I suppose you just intend to ask him?"

"Yes."

"Tommy!"

"So very much nicer than Sir."

"No, don't turn sweet. I'm annoyed. You can't tip them off by asking that."

"You have a better suggestion?"

"Tell him the scene was faked and we think she's been kidnapped. Ask about ransom requests, and what she might know if she were tortured? I think he still loves her, even if she has betrayed him. MI6 might have convinced him that she faked it, but from where I stand it's equally likely someone has taken her. If he thinks that, he might let something slip."

"It's worth a try. I'll go and see him. I might be able to appear more sympathetic to his cause if I'm alone. Why don't you try and find out everything you can about Pullman? Then look for anything about Karen's life that might give us a clue."

Barbara reached out and took his hand. "Be careful."

He squeezed it. "I will. If I'm not back in two hours send in the cavalry."

"Don't! Don't even joke about it." Barbara was no more scared for him than she had been in the past, but now she did not have to hide it from him.

"I'll be careful, I promise. After making love to you, I have no intention of last night being our last."


	6. Chapter 6

Tommy decided to walk to Downing Street as it would give him time to think about how he was going to approach the PM. It was likely to be an awkward meeting that could end very badly. He was passing Westminster Abbey when his mobile rang. "Lynley."

"Sir, Winston discovered something that might be of interest. Pullman's mother died last year and left him her house in Cobham and a sizable farm near New Forest. The farm has been rented out to a government agency."

"MI6?"

"Hard to tell but the agency is listed as a research arm of the military."

"Research? On weapons?"

"From what we can see, it might be more about effective intelligence techniques."

"Are you trying to tell me that Pullman owns a farm where our government tests ways to torture people?"

"Possibly, Sir. It might be more innocent. I always imagined we British were above that."

"I had hoped."

"I guess everyone thinks their country won't be inhumane. The last few years have proved that's not always the case."

"With the right circumstances and corrupt leadership, any nation is capable of brutality. You only have to look to history. Propaganda, disillusionment and despair can drive the normalisation of behaviours we would normally find abhorrent. If you had asked people five years before World War I if the mass slaughter on the Somme was possible, they'd have said no. The same of the Germans, Japanese and Allies during the Second World War before concentration camps, fire bombing and atomic weapons. Would Russians fighting for Stalingrad have believed that within a decade twenty times the number lost there would disappear at the hands of the city's namesake? Look more recently at the genocide in The Balkans. Nobody truly knows whether they will stand up for their beliefs until they have to choose between conformity or death. Usually, people never have to face that because they learn early to accept one more step away from their principles, then another, until they have lost sight of what they stood for in the first place.

"You think Watermain has started to step away, Sir?"

"Possibly. I believed Stephen was a good man who would stand against tyranny. After the last few days, I'm not sure."

"Maybe they are trying to destroy him, and he feels he has no choice."

"And who are they? It's not MI6. They just play the hand they're dealt. It's the corporations and faceless men that control us. Wealth, privilege and the opportunity to make more money or share more of the power."

"Do you count yourself in that?"

"No, but you're right, I could do more to stop it."

"I wasn't saying that, Tommy. Not really. You do care and try. Otherwise, you wouldn't have this job."

"Yes, but at some point, we all have to take sides, don't we?"

"I hope it doesn't come to that, Tommy."

"So do I, Barbara. So do I. Thanks for letting me know."

"Be careful."

Tommy contemplated the call as he walked. Other than Barbara, he had no idea who he could trust. He needed to be wary and play this with a very straight bat.

* * *

"The Prime Minister will see you now," an obsequious minion told him after he had waited in the drawing room for ten minutes.

"Tommy! What news?"

"Prime Minister. At this stage, we have more questions than answers I'm afraid."

"Oh?"

"Stephen, the crime scene was faked. It was Karen's blood, but it was heat treated and taken from her a long time before the pool was left for us." Tommy paused to read Stephen's face. "But I think you knew that. The question is, did she fake her disappearance or did someone else? We are aware of her political affiliations in France, and we know about her lovers. So there are broadly three possibilities. She may have decided to disappear, with or without the help of you or one of her lovers. Another option is that she was kidnapped for political purposes. In that case, there would have been a ransom or a threat, and you would have reported that to us, wouldn't you?"

The PM turned away and looked out the window. "Yes. There's been no ransom or threat."

"Are you sure? Is it possible that MI5 or MI6 are managing it for you?"

"There's been no contact!"

"Good, so the third possibility is that her disappearance was sanctioned."

"Sanctioned? You think I ordered this?"

"Possibly not ordered, but perhaps acquiesced. There is a lot at stake. If Karen knew something sensitive and if she threatened to share it with the French National Front for example, then some action would be necessary, wouldn't it? In the interests of national security."

"Lynley, you've known me for twenty-five years. Do you really think I'm capable of that type of political expediency?"

"We never know the choices we will make until we are faced with them."

"How very noble. I wonder what decisions you would make."

"I'm no different to most people. I think we all believe we will take the moral decision, do what is fair and right, but if we lose something by doing so then would we? Or would we turn a blind eye to what we know is wrong and find a way to justify it?"

"You are right of course. But what is the moral decision? I love Karen. I would never allow her to be harmed."

"Are you implying that some of our intelligence community are acting on their own volition to kidnap, and possibly torture and kill, the wife of the sitting Prime Minister?"

"Maybe. It has crossed my mind."

"Stephen, you warned me off by threatening me about my relationship with Barbara. I know MI6 bugged my car. Do you really expect me to believe that you have no involvement here?"

Watermain ran both hands through his hair. "Tommy, do you know what it's like to be head of a government that is struggling to come to terms with the growing dissatisfaction within the community? There are so many threats to our way of life out there today. So many groups are wanting to harm us, and every day new splinter groups emerge. Some use terror, others use rhetoric, but they are all undermining us. We need to unite as a nation. Find our identity again."

Tommy inhaled quickly but tried not to show his surprise. "You share Karen's far-right views?"

"Yes! We want to make Britain dominant again. United and strong. We have lost so much, but the liberals want inclusiveness. They want to change what Britain is. We want to take it back. We want our country back, Tommy. You understand that surely? What if the wrong people get in and change our system. You might lose your privileges."

"It's called democracy, Stephen. Everyone has a right to their view. The country cannot go back in time. We have to find a way to go forward."

"We need a strong, stable government to guide us through this crisis, Tommy. One that is not going to toady to political niceties. Maybe we have to suspend democracy for a while until we fix what is broken."

"You want to set up a dictatorship?"

"Not exactly. A ruling coalition full of powerful men with Britain's interests at heart. I have many people willing to take control. Some are from Eton. Join us, Tommy. You're a smart man. You could head up our new state police force. Think of what you could achieve. Think of all those petty criminals and drug dealing scum you could put away for life. We would work them on farms or industry to re-build the nation. Re-educate them and give them purpose."

"And those that cannot be re-educated?"

"Will be worked until they are no longer useful. Their last use will be as fertiliser for British farms."

"And I suppose you want the Empire back too?"

"No! Good heavens man, it's people from the Empire thinking they have rights that have caused our demise. Send them back to where they came from."

Tommy sank back onto the arm of the Chesterfield he had been standing beside. His head was spinning. Stephen Watermain was serious. "You think that a totalitarian government is the the moral choice?"

"Yes, I do."

Tommy took a deep breath and played for time as he fiddled in his coat pocket to unlock his phone. "That's a big _call. Barbara_ would never forgive me if I did that." He hoped Siri understood.

"Hav..." Tommy faked a sneeze to hide both his relief and her voice.

"I won't play your game, Stephen."

"Corrupted by your working class whore Lynley? Do you really think she would become part of the elite? She's going to destroy it from within."

"Barbara loves me. She understands my needs. She knows how to keep me safe from dangerous delusions."

"You've made a mistake Tommy. One you won't live long to regret."

"Are you going to send for your goons and have me taken away?"

"No, I'm going to let you walk away and think about it. You'll be back. I've always admired your intelligence and your commitment to people. If you think about, you'll see this is the only way. You won't give your life for the great unwashed. I'll even let you keep your precious Havers if that's what you need. You'll do anything to keep her safe won't you?"

Tommy bowed his head. Could he really endanger Barbara? Could he be responsible for her death? "Yes."

Watermain sniggered. "You really do love her!"

"Of course I do!"

"Well, you have until tonight to make up your mind. You have my number."

Watermain left Tommy standing in the room. Hoping that Barbara had heard enough, he touched the button to end his call. He did not want any electronic scanners to alert anyone to a live call as he exited the building.

Tommy walked slowly but purposefully along Downing Street to the security entrance. After passing through, he turned and picked up pace as he headed towards the office. As he was about to cross Great George Street, a small car skidded to a halt. "Get in!"

Tommy opened the door and slid into the passenger seat as the car rejoined the traffic heading south over Westminster Bridge. "Where did you get the vehicle?"

Barbara smiled at him. "I stole it."

"You what?"

"Desperate times require desperate measures. It's evidence that was impounded this morning. They hadn't taken it to the pound yet. It'll be hours before anyone misses it."

"You're an amazing woman."

"I know."

"So where are we headed? I take it you have a plan?"

"New Forest. It's the only lead we have."

"Barbara, you should run. Get away from me."

"Where would I go that the PM couldn't touch me? Even overseas they would find me. We either live together, or we die together."

"Barbara, I..."

"At least we had last night. We know what it's like to have been truly loved."

Tommy looked over and smiled. He loved Barbara more than he had believed possible. "Yes. Yes, we do."


	7. Chapter 7

Barbara drove just above the speed limit. It was enough to cut a little time from their journey but not enough to attract unwanted attention. Tommy had removed the batteries and sim cards from their phones to reduce the likelihood of them being tracked. There was a beaten up old copy of England A-Z in the passenger door and he studied it for an indirect route.

"Where exactly is the farm, Barbara?"

"Near Minstead."

"We should go via the M3 but it's only three miles longer if we take the A3 and then the A31. After Winchester we can skirt around Southhampton on some C roads. It'll be harder to follow us without us noticing."

"Do you think they are?" Barbara hoped that they could avoid detection for a few hours.

"I don't know. The way you twisted your way through Wandsworth and Wimbledon, they'd have to be good, but I'd put nothing past them. They have the resources and could use multiple cars."

"I still can't believe Watermain thought you'd join them."

"Like it or not, I'd be good PR. An aristocratic, successful policeman as head of the state police would make the whole thing more acceptable and less threatening to my peers and possibly to the public. That's the thing will totalitarian states, they make drastic measures seem reasonable. People accept the new norm."

"Do you think they are in it together? Do you think Stephen helped Karen stage this?"

"Yes. He was away, so no suspicion could fall on him. I think the plan is to announce his wife has been kidnapped, possibly murdered and that the police were unable to catch the perpetrators. I think he planned to have me say how frustrating it is, and how police need more powers."

"Then he'd create the state police, put you in charge and suddenly you can find her?"

"Something along those lines. Then the new police look like a success and can start clearing up crime. A lot of people would like that initially. Ridding the streets of petty criminals and drug dealers is always a vote winner."

Barbara shook her head. "Then the screws slowly turn."

"Yes, until they are too tight and people object. By then, it's too late."

"We will stop them. We have to."

Tommy put his hand on her thigh and patted it gently. "I can't ask you to endanger yourself, Barbara. I love you. I have to keep you safe."

Barbara was grateful for his sentiment, but determined he was not going to do anything foolhardy. "I have to keep you safe. Your the one who runs off half-cocked."

"I do not."

"Be honest, Tommy. Who ran into buildings to face women with guns? Who tried to throw scumbags off buildings?"

"And who confronted murdering policemen inside pubs?"

Barbara snorted. "We need a plan."

* * *

Ninety minutes later they were on the edge of Minstead. There had been no other traffic around and unless they were being tracked by drone or sateliite, they were confident they had not been followed.

"How do you want to approach the farm?" Tommy asked as he put the map away. The scale made it useless now.

"There's a road that runs behind some outbuildings. If we can get behind them without being seen, then we might get in."

"It'll be heavily guarded if it's a torture facility," Tommy argued.

"Do we have a choice?"

"No."

"Do you know where you're going?"

Barbara pulled over. "You drive."

"Me? No, I didn't mean that I didn't trust you. Barbara, I'm not like that."

Barbara frowned at him. "I didn't think that. I've seen the the aerial photos. I can probably find it easier if I'm navigating."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I assumed you were mad at me."

"Stop assuming." Barbara gave him a sharp, deep kiss. "And start driving."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Up here... Turn left... Follow that lane..."

The car bounced over the corrugated dirt surface. "What lane?" he complained. "It's a goat track!"

"Follow the goat track up the hill behind those buildings."

"I'm glad we're not in my car!"

"Me too. It'd stick out like a baboon's bum around here."

"Barbara!"

She chose to ignore his indignation at her comparison of his precious vehicle. "Yes, I know. It's a classic car. There... park behind that tree."

Tommy pulled the car behind a hedge row near the largest tree on the heathy, windswept hill. "Can you see anything?"

"Yes, waterboarding, amputations with gas axes and... of course I can't see anything! My superpowers don't run to X-ray vision."

"What do they run to?"

"After last night, I'd have thought you might have noticed."

"Ah, yes," he said with a cheeky, slightly embarrassed grin, "that is an excellent superpower, I must agree. So, what's your plan?"

"Flexible. I thought we could sneak in and see if we can find anything or anyone."

"That's it?"

"You have a better one?"

Tommy's face contorted in thought. "No, not really."

Using the hedgerow as cover they ran in a crouch towards the spot along it closest to the nearest building. Tommy stood up and peered carefully over the prickly bushes to surveil the terrain. "The biggest barn is about 100 yards across a fairly flat grassy area. It's timber but there's a heavy-looking metal sliding door on the left side. There are no windows on the back so if we run directly at the centre of that wall, we should have cover from any other building. I can't see any cameras but they might be using heat detectors or something more sophisticated. I can't imagine anyone would leave it unguarded."

"Too much security might have aroused suspicion. Maybe they are hiding in plain sight."

"Hmm, and maybe you read too many spy novels."

"Maybe you don't read enough."

Tommy frowned then bent down and kissed her. "I'll go first. If I make it, follow. If not, call for backup."

Barbara knew this was dangerous but when he put it in such stark terms, she blanched. "Don't you dare get hurt!"

"I love you, Barbara."

"And I love you." They paused for a brief kiss. "Okay, let's get this over with. Go."

Tommy turned and with a well-chosen Shakespearean curse about prickly botanicals, pushed his way through the hedge. Barbara watched him sprint to the barn where he bent over with his hands on his knees to recapture his breath. Barbara deliberately hyperventilated then ran as fast as she could across the gap. She was panting heavily, but made sure she did not look as distressed as him.

Her partner looked up and frowned. "I'm... getting too... old for... all this. Maybe we... should retire to Cornwall... after we get married."

Barbara's heart started racing at the suggestion. He would have to do far better than that as a proposal, but it was comforting to know his thoughts were heading that direction. "We have to survive first."

They waited another minute until Tommy had his breath back. He led as they slowly crept along the building towards the side where Tommy had spotted the door. It had been too much to hope it was open. Tommy flicked heavy-gauge chain and padlock. "Damn."

They moved stealthily along the wall to the corner of the building. Tommy's body pressed hard against her as they carefully peered around the edge. Ahead were two other older barns before the hill sloped away leading down to a ramshackle white farmhouse with moss-covered slate roof tiles. Barbara nudged Tommy in his ribs. "Over there," she said, pointing to a modern, low-roofed, grass-green shed about half the size of the other barns.

"That has to be their facility. Why else built a new shed?"

"Agreed. Especially one that from the roads below is made to look like grass."

"We can use that barn over there as cover, but we'll be in the open the last 50 yards."

"You go first," she said. "You need longer to recover."

"Not in all things." Tommy ran across to the next barn. As she followed he sprinted towards the green shed. When she caught up, he was not panting but instead running his hands over the shed walls.

"What is it?"

"Some sort of artificial grass. It's not plastic though. It feels so real."

Barbara pulled off a small clump and tasted the green. "Because it is real. Some farmer you must be if you can't recognise grass."

Tommy's face turned crimson. "I was expecting something hi-tech."

Barbara grunted. Sometimes his intelligence outwitted him. "Let's see what's inside."

The perimeter appeared to have no opening. They circled the building and returned to the small brown patch where she had pulled the small sod and exposed soil. Barbara clenched her fists. "That's really weird,"

"The entrance has to be on the roof."

"And we get up there how?" She saw him raise his eyebrows and smile. "Oh, no. Don't even think it."

"I'll lift you up and you can look."

"And how do you get up? I can't lift you."

"There has to be a way up we didn't see. You can guide me." Barbara stood staring at him. "Barbara, what other choice do we have?"

She put her foot on his clasped hands and let him hoist her up the wall. She dug her fingers into the grass as he moved underneath her. "What are doing?" she hissed. "Oh!" Tommy had lifted her onto his shoulders.

"Climb onto my hands and I'll push you up."

"Do I look like a Chinese acrobat? Whoa!" Tommy had grabbed her ankles and unceremoniously hoisted her skyward. She clamoured to get a grip then scrambled up the last foot and onto the roof.

"What can you see?"

Barbara leant over and smiled. "Go to the back corner."

He was waiting when she leant over. "Well?"

"Jump up. There are handholds on both walls. As you come up it turns into steps."

Barbara watched as Lord Asherton, the debonair aristocrat, struggled hand-over-hand up the wall muttering curses that would have shamed an East End dockworker. He finally made it and lay on the grass roof, rubbing his arms. Barbara lay down beside him to minimise their profiles.

"I see you have a wider vocabulary than I had imagined."

"Knowing the words, and choosing to use the words, are two very different things."

"Maybe that's the first torture? Actually getting into this place."

"I think we will find there is another concealed entrance that uses a remote opener of some kind. This looks like an emergency entrance."

"Bugger to mow."

Tommy turned to her and lowered his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"Sorry. It would be difficult to mow. And how do they do the sides?"

"We'll ask them when we catch them shall we? Frankly, that's the last thing I'm concerned about at the moment. Firstly, we have to work out how to get in."

"There's a couple of skylights over there. They have a clip on the sides."

"Could you see what was below?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but you're not going to like it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Sorry about the delay, my iPad died. I think Tommy and Barbara wore it out!

* * *

Tommy looked down through the domed skylight at the tank below. "Wonderful!"

"I don't suppose it's a dolphin?"

He looked at Barbara and frowned. "No, it's a shark. A big one. You can tell from the tail. If it is vertical, it's a fish. A horizontal tail makes it a mammal and..."

"Dolphins are mammals. Yes, thank you, I do know that." She peered down at the creature swimming in the green glow of it's illuminated tank about three metres below them. "Do you think it is the tear-you-to-bits-and-eat-you type of shark?"

Tommy shook his head and groaned. "Judging by the way it is thrashing around, we have to assume that, yes."

"So, we look for another way in?"

Tommy contemplated their options. "No, we can at least lift the skylight and look."

Together they unlatched the heavy perspex cover and lifted it off. Tommy stuck his head through the hole and concentrated. "Hmm."

"Can they jump?"

Lynley leapt in the air. "Yes. Please don't speak suddenly while I have my head a few feet from a Great White shark."

"A Great White? Like Jaws?"

"Except this one is not mechanical." Tommy looked around. There was a narrow walkway just out of reach. "Barbara?"

"Yes."

"Grab my legs and sit on them as I edge forward."

"What?"

"Just do it please."

"If you die Tommy Lynley, I'll tear you limb from limb."

"If I die, you'll miss your chance. Ready?"

He watched the large shark swim around until he was certain that it was not aware of him, or at least had decided he was not dinner. Slowly, he leant further into the room until, with considerable effort, he could bend at the waist enough to grab the railing of the walkway. "Okay, let me go."

As soon as Barbara's weight came off his legs he started to slip through the hole towards the pool. Breathing heavily, he pulled hard with his arms and tucked his knees to his chest. His legs crashed against the walkway. Pausing just long enough to grimace in pain, he hauled himself over the railing. He sat on the metal deck and watched the shark swim up and down. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the greenish light in the room, reflected off the pool. They were alone.

"Come on."

"That thing's pacing like an expectant father. How exactly am I supposed to reach you?"

"Lie face down and bend your feet towards me. Once I grab them, lower yourself towards me."

It sounded easy in principle but Tommy's heart raced when her weight was too much and her body rushed at him. He had to lean forward to wrap his arms firmly around her knees, but managed to keep his feet and guide her safely into his arms. He did not dare to hint that he had almost dropped her. He held her tightly and kissed her hard.

"Tommy, now is not the time."

They moved quietly around the walkway to the metal stairs and tiptoed down. Barbara swore. On the ground there was fresh blood. They looked up. On the walkway on the opposite side of the pool was a blood-stained harness. Prisoners were obviously dangled over the shark and the stubborn ones met a slow and gory death. "Looks like we caught him after his lunch. This place is like waking in a cannibal village to find them adding water to the pot your standing in."

"Barbara, no more analogies, please." The shark suddenly thrashed in the pool. The lip was only two foot above the floor and water cascaded around their feet. "Let's see what awaits in the other circles of hell."

"Don't even joke about it." She then snorted. "And what happened to no more analogies?"

"It's contagious." Tommy cracked open the door to the next room. "This is only the entrance. This feels cavernous."

Barbara wriggled under his arm and peered through. "Hard to see much in that red light."

"Protects your night vision."

"Useful. Seeing it's daylight outside."

"But not in here." As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the concrete chamber extended a long way back into the hill. He could not see any cameras or people. "After you."

"Yeah, thanks. Send forth the dispensible."

"You are indespensible. That's why I want you where I can see you."

They walked slowly past an array of machines that if not for the hooks, blades, drills, and dried blood, could have been mistaken for weight machines at a suburban gym. When Tommy heard Barbara growl, he took her hand. He needed her calm, not angry. "This is unbelievable," she muttered.

The next section was set out the way he had always imagined medieval inquisition dungeons. Chains hung from walls, and there was a coal fire in the corner next to branding irons and pokers. He wondered where the vat for the boiling oil was hiding.

"This is plain macabre," Barbara said as she picked up the smallest cane that was lying on a table. "Those machines seem modern but this type of thing goes back centuries."

"Sometimes the old methods work best. Rip out a few fingernails, brand the flesh, maybe chop off a small digit."

"Rip out their tongue."

"That makes it hard to give information. I think they did that afterwards to stop them telling anyone." Tommy saw her expression in the dim light. "Okay, I'll keep quiet."

"What's that?"

"What?"

A loud but muffled screech came from behind the wall. They paused. Another scream. A woman shouting. The sharp report of a gun. Silence.

"I think we found them," Barbara whispered.

Tommy felt impotent. He gripped Barbara's hand and waited. There were four men dressed as soldiers lining the walls of the next section. They had only entered unseen because their was no door, only a gap, shielded by another small wall. It reminded him of the anti-sheep gates in Cornwall. Sheep were too silly to wind their way through. As he watched them string up a man in the air by his genitals less than twenty feet in front of him, he began to wish he was a sheep.

In the corner where they stood, there was no light. They could watch undetected because like Tommy, every man was watching in horrified fascination as the man's genitals swelled and stretched. The screams went straight to his groin in the worst possible way. Another minute or so and the skin would tear as the man fell.

One last agonizing cry and the inevitable happened. Barbara jumped when a woman came forward with a handgun and mercifully extinguished the poor wretch's life. "Take them away. Feed them to the shark."

The voice was not Karen's. It had the musicality of a French accent but its underlying coldness sent a shiver up Tommy's spine. They pushed themselves back against the wall as the soldiers carried the corpses past them to Jaws. They waited until the men came back. They were not in British Army uniforms, but rather the dark grey shirts and black trousers reminiscent of fascist outfits. Swatches embroidered with lightening bolts seemed to indicate rank.

Tommy was holding hands with Barbara. It had become an almost automatic reaction and one that gave him courage and determination. They had a future together, but only if these people could be stopped. He tugged gently and led her back behind the wall that hid the entrance to the torture gymnasium and Jaws. "I think they might leave now."

On cue, light filled the centre of the room. Tommy and Barbara peered cautiously around the wall. A metal circular staircase led up to a trapdoor. The illumination was ambient light from the outside. Six figures, all dressed in their ludicrous uniforms disappeared through the opening before the trapdoor closed with a loud click. They waited silently for a minute until their night vision returned and they were confident they were alone.

"We have to get out of here," he said.

"Who are these people?"

"No idea, but they're not British Army."

"I'm glad of that at least. So what is this place? And who did they just kill?"

"I don't know, but I don't want us to be next."

"Did you see the man with the camera?"

"Was he the sixth person?"

"Yeah. He looked like he was videoing that poor man."

"Something doesn't feel right. This place feels fake."

"What we just watched wasn't fake, Tommy. We just saw a man murdered."

"I know. Is Karen in on this, or is she their prisoner?"

"Does it matter?"

"Possibly not. We need to see if we can get out of here."

They walked purposefully to the stairs. Tommy paused at the top and gave Barbara a quick kiss before he turned the handle of the trapdoor. With a hiss the door unsealed and slowly began to rise. He dared a quick look. The entrance seemed to be concealed within a small hedge of bushes. "I think we're safe."

"It's a relative term," she grumbled as she followed him out into the fresh air.

The hedges were growing the same way as the wall below, creating a concealed but open entrance. Tommy had thought the complex ran back into the hill. Now as he surveyed the landscape through the bushes, he could see it ran across the hill. They were about 500 yards from the tree where they had left the car.

"Movement! Over there by the farmhouse," Barbara said. They watched as two men backed a small van up to the rear entrance and began to pack it with cases and boxes. "They're in civvies."

"Driving around in outlandish para-military uniforms decorated with lightening bolts tends to attract unwanted attention."

The men closed the sliding door and went inside. A minute later they returned and climbed into the van. They tooted as they drove away. A Land Rover pulled up. It was driven by the man who had been the cameraman. He entered the house and returned with three heavy plastic camera cases that he loaded carefully into the rear. The woman and the other men appeared and tossed backpacks into the vehicle.

"We'll see you next week," the woman called out to the house. All traces of her French accent were gone, replaced by the grating street sound of Birmingham.

"Bye. Enjoy the ferry."

"That's Karen," Tommy hissed.

Barbara had pulled her notebook from her pocket and had written down the number-plates. "We can't phone these through, but we might be able to catch them later. Probably catching a French ferry from Southampton."

"Most likely," he muttered as he continued to watch the farmhouse. Karen, and a man he assumed might be Jon Pullman, came to the door and waved until the Land Rover was well down the driveway.

The couple kissed passionately. The man whispered something in Karen's ear and she giggled like a schoolgirl. They returned inside and slammed the door.

"If they're going to do what I suspect, now is the best time to pounce," Barbara said matter-of-factly.

"And do what? She doesn't appear to need rescuing."

Barbara stood and started to move towards the farmhouse. "I didn't almost fall into a tank with a hungry shark and watch a man murdered just to sit here. We have to stop them. And if you won't, I will."

Tommy groaned. "Barbara, wait!"


	9. Chapter 9

"No, come on, Tommy. We have to act while they are occupied. He mightn't have your staying power."

"Handy to know that if people ever want to murder us while we're making love, they'll have plenty of time."

Barbara put her hands on her hips. "Did we traipse out here to just sit and watch? We have to stop them."

"By waltzing in and what? Arresting them? They might have weapons, or they might decide to feed us to Jaws. We can't just march in."

"We have to capture Karen Watermain and take her back to London. We have to expose them, Tommy. That's the only way."

"We don't have any backup. There are only the two of us."

"And only two of them. We have to do this, Tommy."

"Are you naive enough to think people will listen to us and not to the PM and his wife? I'm just a two-a-penny policeman who happens to have a bit of a pedigree. That's nothing compared to the machinery of power they have behind them. Goodness even knows who they have already recruited to their side."

"But their side is not right. It is not best for the UK. We stand between them and the future of our country, Tommy. Us. We can stop it before it begins. That's a lot easier than once it gets momentum."

Tommy closed his eyes and stood with his thumbs under his chin and his fingers pressed together under his nose. "Alright. We have to try."

The farmhouse door was unlocked, and with a reassuring nod from Tommy, Barbara slowly opened it. From the energetic noise coming from upstairs, Karen and Jon were not expecting visitors. The building was sparsely furnished. Four camp stretchers, but no sleeping bags, filled the parlour. The kitchen had stocks of canned food and several gallons of fresh water in two-gallon plastic containers. The other downstairs rooms were bare.

"Can you see anything that might be useful?" Barbara asked.

"No, I think the others took anything away. I was hoping they may have left some videos."

"That'd be too easy. Shall we go upstairs?"

Tommy bent down and removed two metal bars from the camp stretchers. "Better than nothing."

Barbara tested it out like a sword. "Saving the country armed only with a camp stretcher."

Tommy leant over and kissed her. "I love you, Barbara. Whatever happens, you have to remember that. I wish I had told you much earlier."

"And I love you. It doesn't matter. I knew."

Tommy stroked her face. "Yes, we did."

They tiptoed up the stairs. There were only two rooms, one on the left with the door closed, and one on the right with the door ajar. The grunts and cries of hard sex drifted onto the landing. Tommy pointed to the open door. He slipped inside and hid behind it. Barbara peered in the room then followed, crouched behind the dresser, then as Karen threw her head back when Pullman disappeared under the sheets, Barbara moved to stand behind Tommy.

She saw him take a deep breath before he stepped into the centre of the room. Barbara stepped out beside him. "Karen Watermain and Jon Pullman, I am arresting you for being accessories to murder and for conspiracy to commit a felony. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Jon Pullman's head appeared. Barbara could read his shock. It seemed deeper than their discovery in a compromising position. Karen sat up in bed, making no attempt to hide her body. Barbara blanched at the purple bruises and red welts that covered her torso.

"So, Tommy and his little low-class plaything have ridden in to save the day!"

Tommy glared at Karen and began to move towards her. Barbara put her hand on his arm. "She's not worth it." He stopped.

"Such wise words. Do what the little lady tells you. My, my. Who would ever have thought that Tommy would be tamed by someone not dripping in land and titles? There was hope for you after all if you had just seen the benefit of what we are trying to build."

"A far right dictatorship? Forgive me for not seeing how that improves anyone's lives."

"Always the champagne socialist weren't you? All too late now."

Barbara looked at Pullman. He was sitting on the side of the bed, scrambling to drag on his trousers. "So what did she promise you, Pullman? Power? Sex? Money?"

The man looked at her uncomprehendingly. "Love."

Barbara laughed loudly. "She's using you. She doesn't love you."

The man looked genuinely distressed. "Yes, yes she does. Tell them, Karen."

Karen looked at him and sneered. "You're pretty, you're good in bed, and you know how to excite me. What more do you want?"

"No. You love me. You told me." Barbara saw the desperation on his face.

"Words are cheap, Jon," Karen said.

"But... all that I've done for you and Stephen!"

"For the cause, Jon, for the cause. And we're grateful."

"This farm... that bunker... everything I've done."

"Have you seen inside your bunker, Jon?" Tommy asked.

"No."

Barbara raised her eyes at Tommy. "So, you haven't met the shark, or seen the torture chamber?"

Jon glared at Karen. "Torture? Shark? What are they talking about?"

"Ignore them!" Karen ordered, "they're playing with your mind."

"Are we? Ask her about the two men who were hung up by their manhood until the weight pulled it clean off." Barbara noticed Tommy bend slightly with her description.

Jon had gone pale. He turned on Karen. "You had men murdered? Who were they?"

"Nobodies. We picked up two derelicts from the Southampton docks. They'd have probably died shortly anyway, lying face first in their own vomit."

"Karen! No!"

Pullman made a lunge for Watermain. Tommy stepped across and engulfed him in a bear hug. Pullman's arms flailed wildly, and Tommy's metal bar clattered on the timber floorboards. Barbara watched as Tommy fought to hold him. She tried to intervene.

"Stop!"

They all turned to the bed. Karen had pulled a black 9mm handgun from beneath her pillow and had it aimed squarely at Tommy. Barbara cursed herself for not keeping an eye on the dangerous woman. "Put it down, Karen!"

"Or what will you do? Me gun, you metal bar - you foolish halfwit."

"She said, put it down," Tommy growled.

"Karen, please! Don't make this worse. You can't kill police officers."

"Oh shut up, Jon!"

"Karen, no. Whatever this is, it isn't right. We wanted to establish a better way of living. This isn't the way. We had ideals... dreams..."

"I said, shut up!" Karen aimed the gun at Jon's crotch and fired. She missed. The bullet crashed into Tommy's hip with a sickening, bone-splintering thud. Tommy let go of Pullman and fell. His agonised groans tore into Barbara's heart.

"No!"

She rushed the bed but did not reach it until Karen had fired twice more. These bullets hit Pullman square on his chest. "Karen?" His eyes widened, then narrowed. Blood sprayed across the room as he tumbled on top of the bed.

Barbara bounced up as the mattress shook. Her only defence fell from her grip and dropped onto the floor just out of reach. When she regained her footing, Karen had turned the pistol trained on her. It was not the first time Barbara had looked down the barrel of a gun. Neither of the other times had ended overly well, but she suspected this time might be considerably worse. She looked across at Tommy lying on the ground, and for the first time wondered if there was an afterlife where they could be happy together. "You can kill us, but there'll be others who rise to stop you. People rebel. You won't be in power long enough to enjoy your victory, Karen."

Karen climbed out of bed and with a wave of the pistol, forced Barbara across the room. "We will. By the time the people realise, it will be too late. The secret to avoiding a revolt is to give people just enough to be happy, but not enough to become soft and complacent. Complacency makes people like us attractive, and we will ride that wave to victory. We give them hope of something better. We offer purpose to their miserable, disillusioned lives. That's what Stephen will do here. In France, the false party we set up will push too hard, and people will flock to the National Front, just where we want them. In time, we can move them towards our objectives. Europe will tumble like dominos. Then we manage expectations and quell any resistance."

"People will always resist tyrants."

"Er, no actually. There are plenty of tyrants as you call them leading countries. A strong police force removes dissidents early." She turned to Tommy. "Think of the power you turned down."

"I... would... never..."

Barbara's heart broke for him. He was barely able to speak but defiance burned in his eyes. And love. He was trying desperately to tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was it was ending this way.

"I love you, Tommy. Always."

"How touching," Karen said sarcastically. "But he still won't do what you need to for you both to live. How does it feel to know he doesn't love you enough to save you?"

"Good, because he wouldn't be the man I love if he betrayed his principles. He knows I couldn't love him if he chose to save me over doing what is right."

"Oh spare me! Well, why don't you go and sit next to Dudley Do-right? Would you like to hold hands as you die? I will kill you first because he will hate seeing yet another lover shot in front of him while he can do nothing to stop it."

"Barbara... help me up."

Barbara extended her hand and helped pull Tommy to his feet. "Ahhh!"

With his shattered hip, he leant awkwardly against her. He was panting heavily, and sweat dripped from his forehead. Barbara reached up and lovingly tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The feel of his arm around her was calming. His soft kiss in her hair brought back memories and reminded her that their love had existed for years and could never be erased. Nothing would change that, not even death. She would die in his arms, and he would follow quickly. That was always the way this was meant to end. There would never be a wedding and family or a long life together. They had had one beautiful night, and she was grateful. She leant against him and closed her eyes, waiting to die.

Without warning, she was shoved sideways. She stumbled, then fell on the ground. Behind her, there was a gunshot then the wet thwack of a bullet penetrating flesh.

"Noooooooooooooooooooo! TOMMY!"


	10. Chapter 10

Excruciating pain shot down Tommy's leg as he stood. He was not going to die on his back, shot like a lame horse. He leant on Barbara and held her close. She lovingly pushed the hair from his face. Her eyes said she was resigned to their fate. He pulled her tighter and kissed the top of her head like he had done once before after she had faced a gun. He had kept her sane then, and he was going to try to keep her safe now.

He glanced at the metal bar, just out of Barbara's reach. He calculated how much time he would have to push Barbara away. He would be shot, he accepted that, but if Barbara was quick enough and furious enough, she might be able to overpower Karen. It was the only chance he had to try to save her.

Tommy stared at Karen. Just as her mouth curled into a smile, he pushed Barbara to his left. There was almost no time between the flash from the barrel and the bullet striking him. As he fell, Barbara screamed, but she also picked up the bar. It was instinctive, reactive, but just what he had planned. He smiled briefly. His hip hurt more than the second bullet, but he saw blood pooling at his feet from the wound in his chest. I love you, Barbara. Everything went black.

Someone kicked Tommy's foot. His hip exploded in fire. His unfocused eyes went wide. It took a few seconds to comprehend the groans and wails beside him. He looked up. Barbara and Karen were fighting. Barbara had Karen in a body lock that prevented the evil woman from aiming her gun. His sergeant began to growl like like the lioness that he had always known lurked within. It grew and grew until her roars filled the room. She thrashed Karen around, and the gun thumped onto the floor, its barrel pointed straight at him. For a second, he thought it would fire. It did not. It lay inert just a few feet from him.

"Let me go you slag!" Karen cried.

"Charming..." Barbara said condescendingly.

 _Whack!_ Barbara stopped Karen's fist with an Aikido move. She stepped back and shook her forearm.

"Language!"

 _Kick!_ This time Barbara was not quick enough, and Karen's foot crashed into her shin. Havers jumped up and down on one foot then snarled at the naked woman.

 _Punch!_ Tommy winced. He made a note to never get into a fist fight with Havers. She did not play by Queensbury rules. He doubted that move was even allowed under Acton rules. Karen looked dazed. She took a moment to recover, then headbutted Barbara. Her head rebounded with a crack, and she spat out a curse at the grinning policewoman.

"Uh-uh!" Barbara said gleefully, "we don't like that sort of behaviour from someone who wants to lead our country."

The two women stood toe-to-toe, their snarling faces inches from each other. "My language has nothing to do with my leadership."

Barbara relaxed her grip marginally, and Karen pounced. With a quick twist, she wrapped her leg around Barbara and forced them backwards onto the bed. Tommy's view was obscured. All he could see was two sets of feet kicking and rolling over each other. He reached for the gun. It was just out of reach. He tried to inch his way towards it, but his left side was lifeless. Sweat broke out all over his body as he placed his right palm on the floor and dragged himself across to it. His fingers closed over the warm barrel, and he pulled it against him. He spun it around and found the grip. Karen had fired four shots. Depending on the model, he had between one and six bullets left.

The two wailing banshees rolled off the bed and thudded beside him. He aimed, but they were moving too much for Tommy to risk a shot. Karen was too close if he missed. He could not risk losing the gun. "Just knock her out, Havers!"

"Sir?" Barbara looked across and smiled.

It gave Karen an opportunity, and she acted swiftly with an uppercut to Barbara's jaw. Tommy grimaced as he heard bone snap. Karen knelt above Barbara. He had a clear shot. Tommy concentrated on keeping his arm steady. He inhaled then held his breath. The moment he was about to squeeze the trigger gently, Karen doubled over in pain grasping her abdomen. Or lower. Tommy could only imagine what his sergeant had just done. With a warcry reminiscent of William Wallace at Stirling Bridge, Barbara lifted the metal bar and struck it with force across the side of Karen's head. With her eyes rolling back to white, the woman toppled sideways, no longer a threat.

Barbara rushed to Tommy's side. "Oo aw-wight?"

"No, but I love you."

Barbara quickly examined his wound. She cursed with a broken-jawed slur. That could not be a good sign. He still expected to die, but he was glad Barbara was safe. He wanted to pull her into an embrace, but she shrugged him off and went to the bed. He heard ripping as she tore a sheet. Returning to his side, she rolled him carefully onto his back then pressed folds of material against his left armpit and tied it tightly.

"Ahhh! Too tight."

"Nwo! Pwessure goot. Stway verr!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Goot." Barbara groaned then kissed his cheek.

Barbara twisted two strips of bedding together then pushed Karen's unconscious body into a sitting position. She efficiently tied Karen's hands behind her back around the bedpost. Tommy watched as she rifled through the clothes of the two lovers that were strewn around the room. She excitedly showed Tommy a mobile, then dialled Hillier. He smiled listening to her lisping explanation and pleas to send an ambulance. Barbara thrust the phone against his ear.

"Lynley?"

"Sir."

"Was that Havers?"

"Yes, she has a broken jaw, and I'm bleeding to death. Just send the bloody ambulance!"

They looked at each other and smiled. Well, Barbara tried to smile, but her face was expanding and purpling rapidly. She stretched out beside him and snuggled into his right side, carefully avoiding his hip. He stroked her back, and they lay silently. Words were not necessary to thank each other. He knew her greatest fear was that he would still die and leave her. He had an incentive to live. Without any idea of the damage he had suffered, he was sure that if he lived, he would be pensioned off from the force.

"Barbara, it'll be a while until I can get down on bended knee. I know it's far from romantic, but it's important. I love you. I can't be without you. My career might be over, but I can still provide well for us."

"Ww..."

"I will do my best not to be an invalid and burden. With you, I won't wallow in self-pity. I promise. And I will work hard to recover."

"Twom..."

"Will you marry me, Barbara?"

"Shwut oop wong enoof so I cun spweek!"

"Sorry."

"Wwes!"

His hip hurt as she leant against it, but he was happy to feel her lips press lightly against his mouth. He wanted to kiss her more savagely than he had ever kissed anyone, but he was gentle, aware that her face and jaw were twice their usual size.

* * *

Three days later, Barbara flew into his hospital room and turned on the television. Tommy could tell she was bursting at the seams. Of all the people to have their jaw wired shut, Barbara was the one he could imagine hated it most.

"Good morning, my love," he said cheerily.

She waved furiously and sat in her usual chair beside him and pointed at the television. Breaking news was broadcast on all channels. Stephen Watermain had been arrested along with a dozen ministers and members of the House of Lords. The government had fallen, and there was to be a general election. In France, the people they had seen at the farm had been captured and were being extradited to England to face charges. The streets of France had been awash with protestors campaigning against the National Front. Worldwide there had been protests against the rise of fascism in any of its guises. Stephen and Karen had set back their cause by decades.

The news then told the story of Tommy and Barbara's discovery of the of the truth and their 'heroic actions' in capturing Karen Watermain. They were portrayed as ordinary police who were incorruptible, even in the face of death. Tommy laughed. "We're having our fifteen minutes of fame."

"Vunderfoool!"

Tommy laughed again when Barbara covered her eyes at the sight of the unflattering picture of her shown coming out of the farmhouse, covered in blood and grime and with her face the size of a balloon. His photo was one of him dressed in a tuxedo attending a recent function in London. The irony was not lost on him. He stroked her hand. "The next one will be you as my beautiful bride." Her response was a gritted teeth harrumph.

Since the farmhouse incident, Barbara had barely left his side. She had insisted on accompanying him on the helicopter medivac that flew him back to London. He was sure she would have attended his operation if she had not been in the other theatre having her shattered jaw reset. He had insisted they share a room on that first night, but Barbara had wheeled her drip across and slept in the chair while she held his hand. He had been too groggy to insist she go back to bed, and too selfish. He had clung to her hand during those first frightening and painful hours as if she were the only thing tethering him to life.

Hillier and his mother had been shocked but had rapidly adjusted. They even seemed happy for them. Tommy was starting to feel as if his world was settling into place. He flicked off the news. "Barbara, I have some news. I am starting rehab tomorrow." Her eyes went wide. "They don't let you lie about long with hip replacements, and if I take it easy, they think they can get almost full movement back in my left arm. The nerve is impinged by the swelling, but they don't think it's permanent."

"Huppre."

Tears ran down Barbara's face, and he wiped them away with his thumb. "Don't cry. We are going to be fighting fit in a few weeks, and then you know what I'd like to do?" Barbara blushed deeply when he told her, but nodded.


	11. Epilogue

Tommy was exhausted. If he thought two months of rehab was tiring, it was nothing compared to the workout Barbara had just given him. "Hmm, I missed that. It was a great incentive all those weeks."

Barbara kissed him. "Well, worth the wait." He was glad that for the last few weeks she had been able to talk to him again.

Although he had been out of hospital two weeks, they had been cautious and despite frustration, had stuck to their promise of not making love until he had medical clearance. Tommy had been given cautious approval by his doctor on Monday, but as their wedding had been planned for Friday, Tommy had decided to wait and make love to his wife and countess.

The wedding had been intimate, with just a few friends and colleagues in a small garden venue in London. Tommy had worked hard to be able to walk his bride back down the aisle unaided. He snuggled her closer against him. "You looked truly beautiful today, Barbara."

"No one was looking at me. Everyone was watching you. All dressed up in your morning suit and top hat. You'd barely know you had nearly died." Barbara started to cry.

He hugged her tighter and kissed away her tears. "I was watching you. And you looked divine. No tears, it's your wedding night!"

"I thought you had died. Karen's principles didn't matter. I wanted to kill her for hurting you and leaving me alone again."

Tommy shuddered. It was the first time they had talked about that day. "I thought I was going to die. I was prepared to you know, to give you a chance."

"I know. That hurts but it's also wonderful. Am I weird?"

Tommy kissed the top of her head as he held her. "No, not at all. Watching you fighting for me, my angry woman, made me realise how much we mean to each other. I'm never letting that go again."

Barbara ran her fingers across his chest. "Good, because I resigned. I meant to tell you."

"I know, Hillier told me. He assumed I knew."

"You never said."

"I knew you'd find the right time, Lady Asherton."

"Don't remind me!" Barbara stopped playing with his chest and looked down. "I didn't want you to think I was doing it because I thought you needed looking after. I want to spend every hour of my life with you."

"Hmm, so do I." He kissed her. The slow tempo rapidly gave way to a discussion of need and passion, desire and love. "And maybe our children."

Barbara pulled back and looked at him. She smiled then kissed him ravenously. "In that case, you have work to do M'lord."


End file.
